Rendez-Vous
by LitLove
Summary: Dating was a serious pain. Particularly when your friends held the view that you really needed to find a man. - Five times Lisbon goes on a first date and the one time she goes on a second. - Post Red-John.


**A/N: **You have no idea how happy I am that I'm able to post a new story. The last 4 months I tried to continue every single one of my stories. Endresult: Nothing! Not a single word, whether for _Kismet_ nor for _Colliding Paths_ nor any other story. But this one-shot really gives me hope. ;)

That's all for now, folks. Hope you enjoy. Thanks again to my beta, **Kassandra.** You're wonderful!

Here's to all my readers and fellow Jisbon'eers! They will be endgame! They just have to! :) ENJOY!

*waves and jumps out*

**Disclaimer: **_The Mentalist_ belongs to its creator Bruno Heller, and CBS. I'm neither of them. Therefore: Written just for fun.

* * *

**RENDEZ-VOUS**

* * *

**I.**

His name was Henry Beauford, and truth to be told, Teresa never thought she'd go out on date with him. He was a recording clerk at Sacramento Superior Court and one day – after she gave her testimony at one of the cases she and her team had worked on – he swallowed down his fear, stepped up to her, and asked her if she wanted to go out with him. Coffee maybe?

It took her by surprise and for a couple of seconds she wasn't able to react. Thank god it was Grace accompanying her that day and not – as usually – Jane. Therefore she felt a slight push at her back, and when she turned her head out of surprise halfway around she saw her junior agent nodding encouragingly.

"Ahm … wow! Henry! Thanks," she was just about to decline when she saw the defeated look not only on the clerks face, but also on Grace's. The guy already seemed crushed without even a word muttered from her, and Grace frowned slightly, giving her a look which said _'Why not?'_. And just like that this one look was going to be her downfall, because after everything they had been through Grace and the team only wanted her to be happy. Geez, why had she to be so soft-hearted?

"Actually, that sounds really nice."

Henry looked up in surprise, Grace raised her eyebrows even more surprised, but the most surprised was Lisbon herself.

"Oh … great!" he exclaimed happily.

The next thing she knew she walked out of Sacramento Superior Court, and had arranged to meet Henry the next afternoon for coffee, while Grace smiled happily, nearly skipping down the steps like a school girl, and beaming in Lisbon's direction as if she was the one with the coffee date.

Damn it!

**oOo**

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Henry didn't turn out to be the man of her dreams, nor the man to go on a second date with, however pleasant the only private meeting with him Hhad been. They soon discovered how very different they were and agreed to return to the situation they had before: Greeting each other in the hallway of court, asking about the others state of health, and maybe even sharing some anecdotes from time to time.

**oOo**

"I'm sorry, boss, that the date didn't work out."

For a second the car swerved to the left, but thankfully Lisbon's reaction was really fast. Which didn't stop her from gracing the man to her left with a disbelieving look.

"Excuse me?!"

She had to credit him for looking shameful.

"What are you talking about, Rigsby?"

If possible he looked even guiltier, and like striking a match she suddenly knew.

"Van Pelt told you about Henry Beauford's invitation, didn't she?"

"Really, Lisbon," he started worried, "it just slipped out, she felt terrible afterwards and made me promise not to mention it, which I … just did. I'm sorry, boss. It's not Grace's fault. She was so excited for you. You know, we all just want you to be happy."

Teresa sighed and swallowed the anger rising in her. The first instinct to throttle Grace, before kicking Rigsby's ass, was soon replaced by actual warmth.

It was true; her team only had her best interest in mind. And it was really nice that Grace got so excited about something as insignificant as a coffee date with Henry Beaufort. Even Rigsby's concern was kinda sweet.

"Don't worry, Rigsby. Trust me when I say: Henry Beauford for sure isn't my soulmate, and I'm really not heartbroken over the fact that the date didn't work out."

The agent beside her just nodded once, before dropping the discussion of her dating life to smoothly switch to the topic of today's weather.

Teresa smiled and allowed it by commenting that it really looked like rain.

**oOo**

"So … Henry Beauford?"

Only at the last second he was able to avoid a collision with one of her books.

"Don't even start, Jane!"

* * *

**II.**

It was unbelievable!

Why did something like that always happen to her? More than that: _How_ was this always happening to her?

Okay, she knew the how. And the when.

Thursday afternoon and everything was calm at the CBI. SCU was in between cases, so Rigsby was trying to solve one of Jane's puzzles (nobody knew why he still tried), Grace was searching online for a birthday gift for one of her (presumed one hundred) nieces, Cho was reading Immanuel Kant's "_The Critique of Pure Reason_" (he was into philosophy in the last couple of weeks), while Jane was napping on his couch (nothing new there).

Lisbon just ended a phone call before she stepped out into the bull pen and told Cho they had to go over to the district attorney's office to discuss some late details of their last case.

Thirty minutes later all questions of assistant DA Kenneth Vaughn were answered and Lisbon and her second in command turned to leave. Cho just opened the door of Vaughn's office when the latter made the two CBI-agents stop with another question (this time unrelated to the case).

"By the way, Teresa," he grinned, not even caring that one of her team members was also present, "I was wondering if we could grab a drink together? You know, after work?"

Geez, what to say about this? She couldn't decline, but also wasn't really looking forward to drinks with Kenneth. A, dilemma.

Back in the car Cho couldn't stop the half-grin creeping on his face.

"Don't! Say! A Word!"

"Wasn't going to."

"Of course not!" she snorted, concentrating on the street.

"It's good you date, Tess. That's all I'm saying."

And she couldn't even be angry with him, for she heard the sincerity in his voice, and he had addressed her with the nickname only he and her brother James used (and Cho nearly never called her that). Fourteen years of working together had that effect.

Therefore she just glared at him, but didn't say another word. Cho once more smirked, even winked at her, before his facial features returned to his usual stoic self.

Fantastic, Teresa thought, a date she didn't want and a smug second in command. Her day couldn't get any worse.

**oOo**

"Those court people surely have the hots for you, my dear."

Okay, she took it back: Her day just got worse.

"Would you stop commenting about my so-called '_dating-life_'? How come you know about that invitation anyway?"

He simply ignored her questions.

"Kenneth Vaughn is quite the catch, Lisbon. Careful, or someone might get jealous."

Another book sailed in his direction, and again only inches from hitting him in the head.

**oOo**

Kenneth Vaughn was a self-absorbed ass, constantly flirting with their waitress.

Mentally she cursed him, told him what she thought about him, and poured the contents of her glass over his head, but in reality she just sat and nodded for a while before she announced – very convincingly in her opinion, even though Jane always said she was a horrible actress – that she felt terribly sorry (mental gag reflex!), but she just received a message from Cho that they got another case and she really needed to go now.

At the question if they could repeat the date, Lisbon dropped her gaze and explained that she was kinda seeing someone right now, and even though it wasn't that serious at the moment, she hoped that it would get serious soon (okay, only the half-truth).

Teresa wasn't even out the door before Kenneth started to flirt shamelessly with the waitress again. What an ass!

**oOo**

She got herself a cup of coffee in the break room when someone stepped up to her.

"Are you sorry that Vaughn didn't turn out to be the right guy?"

She turned her head to Cho and grinned at him. "Not at all. He was a self-absorbed ass who couldn't stop flirting with the waitress."

He grinned back, "Didn't take him for your type anyway."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, "so, what's my type in your opinion?"

Cho put the coffeepot back on the burner, then took a sip from his cup, and while turning around and stepping out of the break room answered matter-of-factly, "Tall. Blond. Charming."

Teresa nearly choked on her sip of coffee when she registered what the Korean just had implied.

* * *

**III.**

Case closed and it was her turn to get the pizza. It was eight in the evening and delivery would have taken an hour, so Lisbon had decided to grab her stuff and get the pizza herself.

_Antonio's_ was the team's favorite. It had been a while since they had a case in Sacramento, and therefore it also had been a while since they tasted Antonio's _Special Pepperoni Fungi Cheesy Pizza_.

Antonio, the owner and name giver of the restaurant, was an old, charming Immigrant from Italy, who had set foot on American soil over half a century ago. His wife Anita had died a couple of years ago and it was around her passing away that old Antonio finally decided to bestow the restaurant upon his son, Antonio Jr. , better known as Tony. Nevertheless old Antonio was present every night the restaurant was open, greeting the costumers, telling anecdotes from precious Italy, and charming everybody with his wit.

Originally Teresa had come here because a friend had told her about the old man, and the CBI-Agent saw a chance to talk to someone in her ancestors tongue. Only a handful of people knew about her heritage. Both her parents had been from Italy, and Teresa – being the oldest – was even born there, near Torino. Growing up her parents had talked Italian with her and her brothers.

It only stopped after their mother died and her father no longer could bear the sound of his native language.

Therefore she more than once volunteered to pick up the pizza herself.

Tonight, when she stepped into the restaurant, nothing felt different. Old Antonio was just telling a couple a story about his youth in San Gimignano, when he looked up and saw her entering.

"Teresa!" he exclaimed happily, excusing himself from the customers, and stepping over to her. He took her by her arms and pressed first a kiss on her right cheek and then on her left cheek, "_ciao, tutto bene?_"

They started talking, smiling and laughing, until Tony stepped over with Teresa's boxes of pizza in hand.

"Good evening, Teresa," he greeted with a smile and gave her the boxes. She smiled back, "_buonasera_, Tony."

It was their turn to engage in a friendly conversation, asking about the others well-being, talking about the wonderful summer they had, always sunny, always warm, when suddenly Old Antonio clapped in his hands and announced, "this is it! Tony, ask this girl out. You two get along so well."

Five minutes later Teresa stepped outside and walked over to her car with 3 boxes of pizza in hand, and a date for the following Saturday.

**oOo**

"_Fantastico, bella Teresa! Fantastico!_"

She didn't even warn him with a look this time, just grabbed another book and threw it in his direction.

This time Jane wasn't fast enough and "_How to be a Leader_" hit him in the back of his head.

**oOo**

The location was nice – a charming little restaurant with actual tablecloths – their conversation was amiable, she laughed and had fun, but this just didn't feel right. Tony was a lovely guy, and Teresa was sure some girl would make him very happy one day, but she just couldn't be that girl.

"Listen, Tony," she finally said after the waiter grabbed their empty dessert plates, "you're a nice guy, and I had a wonderful time this evening, but I think we are better off just staying friends."

He sighed, suddenly beaming at her, a brilliant smile on his face, "oh, thank god! Teresa, you can't imagine how relieved I am."

Okay, it had been her attempt at letting him down carefully, but this exclamation of happiness at her dumping him was really anything else but flattering.

"Pardon?"

Tony gasped, suddenly realizing how his last sentence must have sounded to her, "Oh, geez! This must sound awful. I'm sorry, _bellissima_."

Confusion was written all over her face, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

The man opposite her started to laugh – which made her even angrier – before he started to explain, "I'm _gay_! And I have no idea how to tell my father. He's setting me up with all those women, when really I'm in love with my hairdresser Mark."

The anger was gone immediately, and just like that her smile was back. Well, no other girl would ever make him very happy, but another guy hopefully.

And of course she was the one going on a date with the only gay Italian guy in the area. Jane would never let her live that one down.

**oOo**

When she told Grace the other day, after the younger agent asked about her date, the woman nearly fell over giggling, her hands pressed to her mouth to stop the laughter bursting out.

"Oh, Teresa!" she finally sputtered, but – seeming to realize something – stopped abruptly, "but you're not giving up on the dating business, are you?"

"Grace …"

"It would be such a shame!" the younger one cried, "you, of all people, deserve to be happy. Don't give up on that!"

The dark-haired woman laughed amused and assured the junior agent that she wasn't about to give up, and that – at the moment – she actually was quite happy with her situation.

* * *

**IV.**

Dating was a serious pain in the ass. Particularly when your friends held the view that you really needed to find a man.

One evening, about a week ago, she had been sitting with Tony (after their failed date they had started to meet – as friends – for lunch regularly and had quite a great friendship blossoming) at the counter of a bar downtown, when suddenly he asked if she could remember when she had her last little romp in the sack.

She nearly choked on her _Arizona Jim_.

"That long, eh?" he patted her on her back, sparing her from answering his question, which also prevented her from lying to him. If only he knew.

He changed the topic and soon they were engaged in an intensive discussion about whether Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin was the hotter one of the _Rat Pack_.

Soon afterwards she had all but forgotten about the question, until a week later she found herself trapped. Teresa had no idea how she ended up here, but one minute she was eating heated up lasagna in her office, and the next she was dragged out by Grace and Tony to a bar a few blocks away from HQ to attend its weekly _30plus-Speed-Dating_.

"You can't be serious! I'm not _that_ desperate!"

But the two were unstoppable and suddenly she was sitting at a table listening to Stella explain the rules. A Gong was heard and her "_night of misery_", as she liked to call it afterwards, started.

The first guy sat down, dressed in a button-down and a cardigan, looking like the picture-perfect image of an accountant. And then he started to speak and Lisbon wished with all her might that the Gong would sound again soon. "Hi, I'm Orwell. Like the writer, George Orwell. My mother named me after him because she loved his books. She is great, my mother. She wanted to come tonight, too, to help me find a nice woman?"

One Gong later a macho sat down opposite her. He chewed his gum like a cow chewing on too much hay; the buttons of his cruel Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned way too low; his dark hair with streaks of gray (he surely should have been at the _40plus_-event) sleeked back with enough hair gel to supply a whole styling-team at a fashion show. He wore a gold chain around his neck and a – _Jesus Christ and the Holy Mother Mary, really?!_ – ring on his pinkie.

"Well, hello babe. My name's Nick. Not Nicky, or Nicolas, just Nick. You're a cute one, I must say. Not like all those other scarecrows running around here. I can see you're hiding a pair of gorgeous legs in those stiff dress pants of yours. Want to know what I think? I think that you and I have a lot in common. What do you say, let's get out of here and I'll show you the baseball-card collection I keep in my car?"

The Gong saved him from being arrested for harassment, and Tony had to hold her back when Nick stood from the seat and had the audacity to wink at her before sitting down opposite his next _'victim'_. At the same time a good looking, way too young for being at a 30plus event, and surely interesting enough man to ever need speed-dating to find a girlfriend, sat down opposite her.

At least the evening wasn't a total flop …

"Ahm … bonjour … I mean, hello … Je suis Jaque … I mean, I be Jack. I come from France. I here to get green card."

**oOo**

Back-up was there within 5 minutes. It was just her luck discovering and then disintegrating a smuggling-ring while - _unwillingly_ – attending a Dating-Event.

"Van Pelt, bring them to processing while I'll inform homeland security."

Lisbon stepped into the elevator, waited for the doors to close again, sighed once, and after it stopped, walked out and went down the corridor to her office.

"I had no idea you were undercover at this Speed-Dating-Thing."

Only in the last second she was able to hold back the shriek after Jane's voice was carried over from his couch in the bull pen. She turned around surprised, giving him a quizzical look.

"What are you still doing here? It's after midnight!"

Like so many times before he simply ignored her, took a sip from the teacup he was holding in his hands, and continued, "if you would've let me know I am sure I could have been of great help, my dear."

If looks could kill he would have dropped dead on the floor only a moment after he muttered those words. But he kept sitting, smug grin on his face, and Lisbon got more furious with him by the second.

Taking a deep breath, she finally placed a fake smile on her face, before she turned around to her office door and called over her shoulder in a slight sing-song voice, "screw you!"

Even after she picked up the phone to dial the number to homeland security she was still able to hear his chuckle.

* * *

**V.**

Edgar Muriati had something about him, which made him quite irresistible. He wasn't the most handsome man in the world, nor the most funny or intelligent one. He simply had this charm about him which women found endearing.

Edgar Muriati was a well-known detective at Sacramento Police Department, and the son of one of Virgil Minelli's best friends.

So one Sunday when Virgil and his fiancée May invited several people for a small cocktail-brunch, Edgar was there, and Lisbon was there, and they got introduced.

Unfortunately Jane was also there. May had a soft spot for the consultant after he was the one introducing her to her future husband, and even Minelli couldn't deny that he always liked the distinct man and his unorthodox methods to catch the bad guys. Of course, poor Teresa had most of the work after his stunts, but at least it never got boring.

But back to Edgar Muriati. Already when Teresa stepped through the backdoor, dressed in a light green summer dress (so very different from her working clothes), toe nails in a similar color as her outfit, hairs bouncing around her, the detective observed her full of interest.

May saw the man's look and shortly after the SacPD officer and the CBI agent were introduced and conversed good-humoredly.

When May stepped back to Virgil's side she saw the dark expression upon his face.

"What is it, dear?"

"This will end in disaster." May followed the direction of his eyes and gasped slightly when she discovered that Patrick Jane had just stepped into the garden and a second later wandered over to the spot were Teresa and Edgar were talking to each other.

"Poor Edgar," the woman sighed, "he doesn't stand a chance. All his charm's for nothing when it comes to a determined Patrick Jane. And he looks _really_ determined. I don't think I've ever seen him like this before. Surely it's the dress Teresa's wearing."

"Maybe something good will come out of this," Virgil mumbled, wrapping his arm around May's shoulders. "Maybe Jane finally realizes that Teresa won't wait forever. Although I don't like that it will happen at the expense of Edgar."

"Oh, sweetheart, but you know the saying: _All's fair in love and war._"

He nodded, slightly frowning, "let's just hope this doesn't turn into war."

**oOo**

Teresa pressed the towel with ice carefully on his face. At least the nose wasn't broken.

"Good job, Jane!"

"Hey! I didn't hit him, he hit me!" The voice was muffled by the towel, and still slightly gurgled from the previously flowing blood. His dress shirt was ruined, that was for sure.

"You deserved that hit!"

"Thanks! So that's what I get for looking out for you, Lisbon."

"Don't be ridiculous!" she frowned and pressed the towel a little harder, which made him gasp. A little satisfied grin escaped her, before her face turned into a frown again. "First of all I can look out for myself, thank you very much. And second, it was really not necessary to call him a – wait, how did you say – ah, yes … _'a narcissistic, arrogant, self-absorbed ass'_."

"But he is!"

"I don't care! We just talked at Virgil's brunch. It's not like we're off to get married or something. We simply had a conversation at a party! What's wrong with you?!"

At this point Jane grabbed the towel from her hands and gave her a serious look.

"I don't like it when people are condescending towards you, my dear. Especially men who have no clue about who you really are."

Teresa actually had to smile at that, but still couldn't stop herself from replying, "You patronize me all the time."

"Meh," he shrugged, "only in a challenging way, Lisbon. We don't want you to lose your touch, do we?"

She grabbed the towel, rolled her eyes at him (the amusement still sparkling in there), and pressed it to his face again. Another gasp escaped him and she had to grin once more. At least this way he had to shut up.

**oOo**

Later in the evening Teresa stepped over to Virgil and May, gave both of them a hug, and thanked them for a lovely day.

"Is everything all right with Jane? Edgar has quite the punch."

She waved their concerns aside, "he will be fine. It's not the first punch he's gotten for being an ass."

Virgil sighed, before finally pronouncing the thing swirling around his head ever since Jane had made his appearance, "Teresa, don't you think it's time to tell Jane to stop this kind of behavior? We just want you to be happy, and we're not sure you'll find this happiness when Jane's always around to make his comments."

A heartfelt laugh escaped the Agent, and before stepping forward and pressing a kiss goodbye on her mentor's cheek, she reassured, "really, guys. Don't worry about me. When it comes to Jane and my dating life I have everything under control."

* * *

**I.**

Walter Mashburn was back in town, and for once Teresa didn't feel overwhelmed with unwanted feelings for another suitor when he sent flowers to her office, together with a card asking her if she would be available for dinner. Last time she met Walter they had a short interlude in the bedroom, but the nice thing about that was that they both saw it for what it was: A nice interlude not to happen again.

They stayed friendly, exchanging emails from time to time. He wrote her about his adventures in Europe, she wrote him about Jane's insufferable antics while solving cases.

When Grace saw the flowers and Teresa had told her about the accompanying invitation the red-head smiled brightly and told her, that she really hoped she was going to accept such a nice way of a dinner-invitation.

When Wayne got a glance of the flowers he whistled through his teeth, explaining that when a guy was sending such a bouquet he really must be "seriously interested".

When Kimball discovered the flowers on her desk he just raised one eyebrow and stated, "at least Mashburn's tall and charming, even if he's not blonde."

When Jane saw the bouquet of red roses, he only glanced at them once – not deeming them important – before asking her if she wanted to grab a bite for lunch.

Two minutes later she held the phone to her ear and accepted the dinner invite.

**oOo**

She had a wonderful evening, with good wine, great food, and extremely pleasant and very obliging company. Walter had all kind of different stories to tell and Teresa found herself enjoying his attention. More than once she found herself laughing wholeheartedly throughout dinner, and when the evening ended and the millionaire asked if they could repeat this evening when he was in town next time, Teresa smiled brilliantly and accepted happily.

**oOo**

Mashburn's limo had just dropped her off at her apartment. It had been a great evening, but she was tired after an exhausting week at work and she was looking forward to a hot shower and her bed.

After entering she dropped her keys on the side table, shrugged out of her trench coat while slipping her heels of her feet with a sigh. Her feet were killing her.

"Need a food rub before bed?"

She grinned before stepping over to her couch, letting herself fall down on the seat beside him. He closed the book he had been reading mere seconds ago and put it on the coffee table. Teresa leaned back, her head now on one of the armrests while placing her feet in his lap. This action was rewarded with a grin, and a moment later she felt his hands kneading her aching soles.

Her eyes travelled around the room, once again realizing how much it had changed the last couple of months: His jacket hung beside hers on the coat rack. Through the door to the kitchen she could glimpse his teakettle on her stove. On the coffee table in front of the couch several of his Sudoku-books mingled together with her fashion-magazines (her secret passion). A handful of his clean dress shirts lay in a hamper at the bottom of the stairs to be taken upstairs later and hung in the closet.

A closet with both their clothes in it. In a bedroom they shared, where both of them had their respective sides. Adjoined to a bathroom with his cologne beside her vanishing crème, and both their toothbrushes in a cup.

He found one of the nastier knots in her foot and she gasped when the short ache shot through her body.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, and leaned down to press a kiss on her kneecap. She sat up, reached out for him, and her hand came to rest in his locks. For that single moment everything in her world was perfect.

"I love you, Jane," she whispered while she scooted closer, foot rub forgotten, and cuddled into his side.

"I love you, too, Teresa," he answered while brushing one of his hands through her hair and the other came to rest on the small of her back.

She smiled into his neck. "But we really need to tell the team or else I'm quite sure Grace will start to open accounts for me on various dating sites, and I'm really not in the mood for any more dates with strangers in the future. I think I will stick with you."

He chuckled while his fingers absentmindedly drew patterns on her arm, "you _think_ you'll stick with me."

She chuckled as well, "I'm sure I'm _stuck_ with you."

Jane full out laughed at that one, a sound not often heard from him. "Touché, my love. Touché."

"You deserved that one," her head turned and she was looking up to him now, "after all those insufferable comments every time another guy asked me out."

"Meh," he pressed a kiss to her forehead, "that was just the jealousy speaking."

"You? Jealous? Of course." A snort escaped her and when he glanced down at her he was able to see her rolling her eyes at him.

"What's so difficult to believe there? You're a very attractive woman, and there are far better men than me out there to woo you." To emphasize his words he pressed another kiss to her forehead.

"Stop that, Hon," she did that adorable thing with her eyebrows, once again turning into his beloved angry little princess, "you know you're the best man for me. I tell you often enough."

His smirk was back, "ah, but it's always good to hear, sweetheart."

Teresa rolled her eyes at him again, swatting him lightly on his arm, before she stood up with a sigh and announced she would take a shower now and afterwards fall into bed.

He answered that he would follow soon, a mischievous smirk on his face, winking at her while taking the book he was reading before she came home in his hands once more.

She disappeared up the stairs and Jane waited patiently, listening intently to every sound coming from the upper floor. He heard her walking through the bedroom door.

"Oh my god! Jane!"

Smiling he stood up and walked to the stairs.

So she had found the ring. He really hoped that was announcement enough for her.

**FIN**


End file.
